Right In Front Of My Nose
by Sarah the Swinub
Summary: A sequel to 'Why Didn't We Notice It Before'; Clasko hasn't been able to stop thinking about his encounter with Maechen, leading him to search the entire of Spira to find the man he cannot forget.


**Disclaimer:** I don't pretend to own Final Fantasy X or Final Fantasy X-2. If I did, there'd be a whole lot more yaoi. And a lot more Seymour, for that matter.

**Author's Notes #1: **"A sequel to my Clasko/Maechen that has more than a drunken mwah!" - When I asked Dannichu for a story idea, this is what I got. Well, I'll give it a go.

As a side note, I do not remember the game exactly how it goes, so certain elements of the canon plotline may have been slightly shifted for my own needs. It still has mentions of actual happenings in the plotline, such as the sidequest in which you run around for five billion hours trying to kill a bunch of fiends in what used to be the Monster Arena.

Also, if this weren't already evident, there will be spoilers, for both those who haven't played the game (although why you'd read fanfiction of a game you're not familiar with is very confusing to me) and those who have played the game, but haven't done lots of little side things.

**Right In Front Of My Nose**

I don't know what possessed me to sneak around the Chateau of that scary woman, Leblanc, and her somewhat disturbing cohorts, Logos and Ormi. Staying in that rather gloomy set of pens that stood empty, their occupiers either non-existent or out finding items at the request of Lady Yuna, was not a very appealing option as to how I should pass the endless free time I seemed to be subject to for all eternity.

I was extremely grateful that she and the other Gullwing girls, Rikku and Paine, managed to clear all the monsters out of here so that I could start up what I had always dreamed of managing – a chocobo farm. But with the chocobos absent and no one to talk to – not that I made it a very regular habit to chat to large birds who were incapable of replying in the same language, as that would make me certifiably crazy – my mind had begun to wander. And it wandered, predictably, to him.

I hadn't seen him since that rather confusing evening about two years ago, wherein he consumed a bit more alcohol than was necessary to forget his troubles, crossing the brink from cheerful to positively inebriated. As they always say – although who 'they' are is beyond me – one thing did indeed lead to another and I received a drunken, though not entirely unpleasant, peck on the lips as thanks for being his drinking buddy, even though I had satisfied myself with a string of glasses of water, instead of the Lucan Beers he enthusiastically threw back for a significant portion of the night.

The realisation that my recollection of the event had included my concession that the kiss was 'not entirely unpleasant' was more than a bit of a shock to me. I knew I was still quite young (in contrast to him, though he would make Maester Mika look quite sprightly, to be perfectly honest) and I had been too caught up in the Crusaders, as well as the Youth League, to consider my options for a relationship. I knew very few women, the two most prominent being Captain Lucil and Elma, and the prospect of being anything more than a subordinate to them seemed positively laughable to me. In any case, I hadn't really felt any inclination to be any more than a colleague to either of the women, and making the effort to begin a relationship I wasn't particularly fussed about having didn't seem worth it to me.

In the days following my confusing encounter with him, his drinking habits and his more amorous 'friendly' actions, I found myself unable to fully concentrate on anything but the startlingly clear memory of that evening. Instead of the disgust I expected to feel at being 'jumped', for lack of a better verb, by another man – and one that I barely knew, at that – I felt a distinct lack of animosity towards him for the whole embarrassing incident. I tried reasoning with myself that his drunkenness or age had made me feel too much empathy towards him to feel anger at his actions, but it didn't take long for me to become angry at myself instead for dancing around the true core of the matter.

Knowing that I had at least an infatuation, if not a full blown 'fallen-head-over-heels-in-love', with another man that I didn't know the surname of and hadn't seen since that fateful night, came as less of a shock than I had anticipated. It was as if I couldn't believe that I hadn't noticed it before, that it was just so obvious and downright normal I must have been a complete idiot to have missed it. Despite my fairly accurate assertions that I was, in fact, a complete idiot – or at least a useless fool – I knew that there really wasn't any turning back from my revelation.

I spent the next two years trying to look for him wherever I went, though I was usually caught up in whatever it was I was helping Captain Lucil with or, in the case of the last year, what the Youth League wanted me to do. Whenever we stayed in or near a town I knew housed at least a library, if not some other place of learning, I would always attempt to slip away from my colleagues and search for him. However, my efforts were all in vain; whenever I managed to get away from the others and search the town, village or city, he was never there. Many had heard of him, but none could tell where it is he had gone to once leaving them. The idea of staying in one place to wait for him was an impossible one, what with the constant demands on my time from whomever I happened to be working under at the time – I seemed to be the most ideal errand boy in Spira.

The lack of job satisfaction and the urge to finally find him compounded into my sudden decision to ask the Lady Yuna if I could use her airship, as a way to get away from everything until I figured out what it was that I wanted to do. Once on the ship, I hadn't expected my sudden airsickness, which preoccupied me for the majority of my stay. After taking medicine from the hospitable Hypello behind the bar (a bar on an airship? Is that safe?) I glanced out of the window to see the Calm Lands stretching out beneath us as we lazily flew overhead.

I'm not quite sure where the sudden epiphany came from, but I knew I should definitely ask the strange man driving the ship who seemed to have an unhealthy interest in Lady Yuna, especially as they are cousins, if we could stop off in the Calm Lands. The image of the wide green plains seemed burned into my retinas as the ideal place with which to both raise chocobos in their ideal environment, as well as give me some time to be alone and think about what I should do.

After being let down in the Calm Lands, along with Lady Yuna, Rikku and Paine, I soon found the best place to set up my operations. Ignoring the monsters, that is. Once the women had so graciously dealt with that problem and left, promising to send over any chocobos they found. (What kind of idiot am I to set up a chocobo ranch with no chocobos? A complete idiot, that's what kind.) I managed to find a couple myself, using my greens, but once they were suitably settled into their new home, I thought it would be best to let them stretch their legs out on the Calm Lands – there certainly wasn't enough room for that here.

But once they were gone, I got to thinking, as I have said. After brooding over the topic of him for far too long a while, I made the second split-second decision of the week and resolved to travel once more to find him, unhindered by the whim of my (now former) commanders. Which now leads to my current situation, crouched outside the door of the room of Leblanc's henchman, Logos, of all places. I recognised the voices of Lady Yuna, Rikku and Paine inside there, talking to Logos about something I couldn't pretend to understand. I believe machina may have been involved, but I couldn't tell you for certain.

I suddenly heard footsteps behind me; worried that it would be another member of the Leblanc Syndicate, who didn't know of my presence here and I wasn't in any hurry to illuminate them with this knowledge. Glancing around, I jumped behind a nearby pillar, peering around the corner towards the door as the footsteps neared, all the while hoping that I would go unnoticed. Imagine my shock when he walked into view and entered the room with no preamble whatsoever, even though the voices inside had ceased. He, the man I had been unable to get off my mind for two years, mere feet away from me, but unaware of my presence, even though I thought my thudding heart would have been audible all the way to the Moonflow.

As the door shut quietly behind him, my knees trembled and I sank ungracefully to the floor, my cheeks flooded with colour. After all this time, I don't know if I ever thought what I would do beyond finding him – what to do if I found him. Would I just go right up to him and say something along the lines of "Hey, I'm the guy you kissed two years ago when in a drunken stupor and now I've fallen madly in love with you! Wanna go out sometime?" which I doubt very much would go down extremely well – especially if Logos and the Gullwings are present for this little speech of mine and his imminent refusal of my advances.

While mulling my options over, I had unconsciously moved back towards the door and was once again listening to the conversation inside, except now it had the addition of the leisurely tones of him, the man I searched for all this time. Being unable to think of anything to do for the time being, I resumed listening in to their muffled conversation.

From what I could ascertain, the others had noticed he was there and were discussing the contents of a sphere that Logos had just shown to the Gullwings. He said something about giving a Lady Yuna a handshake and recognising it as the same as a handshake of someone he met a long time ago. At this point, my confusion mounted as the conversation seemed to proceed to prove that he was an Unsent to have had to opportunity to shake the hand of a woman one thousand years ago. I didn't really understand, but I refused point blank to believe that the man I had obsessed over for the last two years had been dead all this time.

Despite my determined mental assertions that he could not have died centuries ago, the occupants of the room, who had initially seemed dubious, were apparently quite certain that this was in fact the case. From the sudden gasps and the recognisable 'whoosh'-ing sound of pyreflies, I would assume he was proving it to them beyond any shadow of a doubt. As they could see him, it was likely that they were correct in their decision that he had been dead for goodness knows how many centuries, meaning I should accept this conclusion as well.

It was a fact I conceded to very reluctantly – of all the situations I expected him to be in, dead had in no way factored into the equation. I knew he was fairly (now an extreme understatement) old, but he had seemed so resilient that he appeared to me like he would never die. I didn't want to believe it, but it would seem like I had no choice.

There had been a lull in the conversation and I suddenly heard the sound of footsteps moving towards the door, right where I was crouching. Retreating back to the pillar once again, I watched as the Gullwings left the room, discussing intently what had just happened, although half their conversation made little sense to me. Logos left a few moments after, leaving only the man I wanted to see so desperately inside the room; perhaps he knew I was here, and was hanging back to see what I wanted. I can't pretend to be an expert on the subject of Unsent, the only famous ones recently being Maesters Mika and Seymour – with examples like that, I would think that all Unsent were just as conniving and malevolent as they had been. The idea of him being a conniving and malevolent man seemed positively laughable to me.

Deciding there was no point in just staying behind this pillar, debating my options over and over again, I made my way towards Logos' room where he was presumably still residing. If my footsteps were loud, it was nothing compared the beating of my heart, which was thumping so violently that I feared it would leave a bruise inside my chest. In any case, he could probably hear me coming and hopefully wouldn't attempt to leave before I managed to reach him.

As I crossed the threshold of the room, he was immediately visible, his back to me as he gazed with interest at the books on the stand beside the bed. He looked no different to how he had two years ago – do the Unsent still age? Or change their clothing? From what I could tell, his outfit had not changed since we had last met – still the same blue and green ensemble, complete with a matching hat, which I thought looked kind of fun, highlighting with this rather immature thought our somewhat drastic age gap.

I felt incapable of doing anything but staring at him, which inevitably left him to open what would probably be one of the most important conversations of my existence – though why the Fates had deigned to set this monumental discourse in such a place left me wondering. How that Logos man could even hope to sleep in such a garishly coloured room really was a mystery to me. But I digress – I was indeed too dumbstruck by his mere presence that he was the first to speak, yet remained with his back to me.

"I believe it has been two years, correct?" he said, still perusing the bookshelf, the tremulous timbre of his voice transporting me back those two years to when we had last seen one another, on that fateful night that had led to our current circumstances. I opened my mouth to reply, though I had no idea what to say, so I just stood there, gaping like a fool. Realising I had yet to respond, he finally turned around, his wise blue eyes curiously assessing me from behind his rounded spectacles. In contrast to his air of wisdom and knowledge, I continued to gaze dumbly at him, unable to speak.

When asked to recall my reasoning for my silence, I would put it down to fear, awe and possibly even sorrow. I think it was in that instant that all my suspicions as to my feelings towards him were confirmed and the revelation had left me with no words with which to enunciate my discovery. Also, to tell him how I felt would open me to refusal, yet my silence continued the pretence that there could ever be any future for the two of us beyond this moment in time.

And so, the silence continued. Neither of us made any attempt to further the conversation from his one query, though I had the presence of mind after some time to close my mouth. His eyes continued to fix upon my own, yet I was unable to meet his gaze, my vision swimming disturbingly if I attempted to do so. This silence probably lasted no longer than a minute or two, yet it felt as if both nanoseconds and years passed in that time, as I wrestled with myself as how I should ever articulate the exact depth of my emotional response to his actions two years ago and his presence now, not to mention that crushing discovery of his death, goodness knows how long ago.

"My dear boy, I do hope your tongue has not been removed since we last met. It would be a dreadful shame to not enjoy your conversation once more." He spoke once more, this time including what might just be a compliment towards me, although my skill in conversation was hardly being used right now. With great effort, I managed to summon up the ability to speak, though I must admit that my response was not my wittiest of comments.

"Maechen..." I managed, before surprisingly both me and him by stumbling forwards and throwing my arms around his shoulders, breaking down into tears that I didn't realise I had been holding in. I wept embarrassingly into his shoulder, the soft fabric of his coat becoming darkened with my tears, my choked sobs echoing off the stone walls of the lurid bedroom. Despite my distress, I was dimly aware of Maechen's hands resting gently on my back, accepting my lunging embrace with an almost fatherly gesture, despite my rather un-familial feelings towards him. I was perhaps emboldened by his reaction, as my fingers, initially resting against his shoulder blades, tightened so that I held the bunched fabric of his jacket against my sweating palms. His own palms rubbed my back soothingly, dulling my sobs from distressed wails to intermittent hiccoughs, my tears from flowing rivers to trickling streams, my shaking chest to mere occasional convulsions.

Maechen remained silent throughout this entire, fairly humiliating, episode, though he spoke once I had settled into relative quietude.

"I shan't be so presumptuous to presume that I have caused this outburst, though I think it likely you now know the exact nature of my existence." I briefly envied his eloquence, while I had still yet to string together an entire sentence, yet his own vocal acknowledgement of him being an Unsent seemed to make it completely real for me. I drew back slightly, unwilling to completely let go of him, though my hold on his clothing lessened.

"But you feel so real..." I whispered, our proximity meaning that my inability to speak normally was less of a hindrance. Maechen nodded once, a slight, tired smile creasing his already weather-beaten face as his blue eyes held mine. Unlike before, I now couldn't bear to look away, feeling that if I did, he would vanish from me completely.

"I know, my dear boy. Even I do not fully understand what it truly means to be an Unsent." Maechen's sorrow at this outcome seemed almost palpable, causing fresh tears to rise unbidden to my eyes, clouding my view of that sad, morose, defeated visage. I felt his fingers press against my back as an effort to console me; his concern for my own feelings, despite his own grief, evident in his words and looks, just renewed my affection for the man.

How I developed the courage for what I did next perplexes me, yet before I realised what had just happened, I realised that I was kissing him. I was incredibly aware of the saltiness of my recently-shed tears on my lips, yet his own were surprisingly warm and pliant. My arms moved slightly, allowing my right hand to gently cradle the back of his head, while my left hand rested on his cheek, my fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against the soft fringe of white hair that protruded from the bottom of his hat, knocked slightly askew from my sudden lunge a short while before.

I then realised that Maechen had yet to return my advances, so drew back suddenly, afraid that he would abandon me in the mansion for my actions. It took me a moment to notice that my vision was still blurred by my tears, now for both his mournful fate and my own selfish fears that my feelings would be disregarded.

What happened next was certainly not what I expected, let me tell you.

I found myself on the receiving end of a very passionate, somewhat joyful and incredibly kiss, Maechen's arms pulling me to him so tightly that I felt we would never be separated. My heart soared as I wrapped my arms around his back in an attempt to somehow pull us closer, my tears now ones of joy and thanks.

"I love you." I mumbled against his lips, without intending to yet meaning every word. I felt Maechen's answering chuckle before I heard it; he pulled away slightly, so that our foreheads rested against one another's and we were almost breathing each other, our lips brushing as we spoke.

"I know," he replied, gently bumping our noses together. "I love you too."

I let out a surprised sob, hugging him to me tightly, pressing the barest of kisses against his cheek as I moved to press him as close to me as possible.

"You're not going anywhere without me," I promised, drawing back once more to look him determinedly in the eye. "I'll follow you wherever you go - no matter where it is, I'm coming too." I tried to show just how much I meant that promise by kissing him once more, my tongue brushing against his before I pulled away once more, knowing that my love for him was showing through my eyes.

Maechen merely smiled in response, pulling away completely to take hold of my right hand with his left, leading me towards the door and, beyond that, the future.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, my dear boy."

**The End**

**Author'****s Notes #2: **Okay, so I put that Maechen reveals his Unsent-ness in about Chapter 3, instead of Chapter 5, which is probably when he does actually tell you, but NEVER MIND. It worked for the story and, in my defence, I haven't played the game very recently.

So, there you go, more than a drunken mwah indeed. If it wasn't already painfully evident, I have zero experience in writing stuff that DOES have more than a drunken mwah, but I think it wasn't too painful to read. Kinda weird to write, but okay to read – or so I'm told.

I hope you enjoyed it - I had a fair amount of fun writing it. Also, I hope the mental image of Clasko and Maechen kissing didn't scar you eternally, I didn't mean to traumatise my readers.

Goodnight!


End file.
